KidLit Creatives On-Demand Virtual Courses

After years of promising that on-demand writing and marketing courses were "coming soon!" ... I'm finally pleased to announce that "soon" is here!

I have teamed up with author Annette Whipple to bring you the KidLit Creatives Write Now! virtual school.

Our experiences in publishing include picture books, chapter books, middle grade, young adult novels, children's magazines, educational materials, and marketing. We have taught kidlit creators of all ages through writing conferences, webinars, school visits, library presentations, consultations, and mentorship programs. I have personally taught workshops at SCBWI events and conferences in Maryland, New Jersey, and New Mexico, as well as webinars both for private groups and public audiences. I've had experience in presenting my own workshops at schools, libraries, and bookstores for writers and readers of all ages (from early pre-K through adult). I have coordinated the MD/VA/DE/DC/WV Read Local Challenge since 2015, coordinating events for authors and illustrators with schools, libraries, bookstores, festivals, and other literacy-minded organizations, and I was a PitchWars mentor for several years. Annette also has years of experience in teaching classes in-person and online.

From basic writing craft to marketing know-how, we’re here to help you find your unique voice as a kidlit creator, no matter where you are on your writing journey.

Some courses that are available now are:

Preparing Your Perfect Presentation (#1 in the "Selling Yourself, without selling yourself short" series)
You have something unique to offer the world that no one else can: YOU! Take this guided course to discover the intersection between the things you're passionate about, the things that come easily for you, and the things teachers and librarians are looking for in an author presentation in order to create a presentation that only you can give.

5 Tips for KidLit Writers **FREE Writing Class**
Whether you're just getting started or have several books published, these are our top tips for finding your own way in the publishing world!

Upcoming on-demand courses include #2 - #4 in the "Selling Yourself, without selling yourself short" series of courses:

• Allow Yourself to Shine (in-person & online): Navigating author websites, social media, and putting your best face forward
• Reaching Out to Schools & Libraries (& Bookstores!): They can't invite you to events if they don't know you're available!
• Winning Author Presentations: Exploring in-person and virtual events, making meaningful connections, and keeping an audience engaged

Plus courses on writing, such as:

* How to Fracture a Fairy Tale (& other stories you know well)

* Write What You Know (it might be more than you thought!)

* and more!

To vote on which course I should teach next, please vote in my Twitter Poll!

Want to join us? Use the code VBKIDLITCREATIVES2020 for 10% off your first KidLit Creatives course from us! (discount available for any course in our catalog--including the full "Selling Yourself without selling yourself short" bundle of courses!)

Facing Fears Head-On

A while back, I wrote about Living with an Expiration Date  and my determination not to let those daily "what ifs" of living with a brain tumor stop me from living my life. Usually, I'm pretty good at remembering all of the great advice I gave myself in that blog post. Usually, I can brush off the weird symptoms and ignore the strange side effects of living with a brain tumor. And most days, I'm genuinely grateful for the little daily trials that help me to remember all the major blessings that get me through.

But for the past couple of months, I've been struggling. I'm not sleeping well, my dizzy spells have increased, I'm having more muscle spasms than usual, and I've lost count of the times I've simply stopped breathing because I wasn't consciously thinking about inhaling and exhaling. These are all "red flag" symptoms that could easily be nothing (might be stress or exhaustion or even a common virus) but this particular group of symptoms was also the exact combination that finally led to the discovery of my brain tumor in the first place.

And two years after my radiation, this combination of symptoms was the reason my doctors and I decided to run another set of MRI and CT scans to see if the tumor was growing again. It was. (That's when I had my surgery.)

So even though I know it could be nothing, and even though I've dealt with each of these symptoms in a myriad of different configurations over the years, facing them all together like this sends the "what if" monster into a frenzy. Unfortunately, this time around a series of scans won't help us to see if the tumor is growing again. Because the remaining tumor is invisible to scans, so there's no way to know for sure.

I've been reminding myself daily that it's probably nothing. And I'm trying to believe that. Because it's probably the truth. And I've been hiding my fears from everyone, because I didn't want to worry anyone. And I've had so many people tell me that my optimistic outlook is an inspiration ... so it feels like I'm letting the whole world down if I'm not always "on."

So I've plastered on a happy smile and painted rainbows and bubbles across the sky. And I've tried to be the most positive, upbeat, cheerful person ever. Because that's who I am. And that's who I want to be.

Meanwhile, I've been operating in panic mode for the past three months, battling the strongest what if monsters I've ever encountered. "I need to knit enough hats and scarves and mittens to last my family throughout the rest of all eternity, because what if I'm not here next winter to make more?" "I must organize all of our family photos and kids' artwork and random bits of memorabilia into scrapbooks, because what if no one remembers that this group of fast food receipts was from the anniversary when we were too poor to go out for a nice dinner, so we bought one thing at each of six different fast food chains instead?" "I must write ALL THE BOOKS, and sell them to publishers NOW, because what if I die before I get the chance, and NO ONE REMEMBERS ME EVER???"

I even joined an anonymous online brain tumor support group, so I could talk about my fears with total strangers, carefully hiding any identifying details that might let people in my real life know that I'm worried. But I haven't been hiding the crazy as well as I thought I was, so there's been an added layer of tension in all of my relationships for the past few months, as I push people away "Because what if they start to rely on me, and then I die and leave them without that support? I need to pull away ... to make them find other people to lean on instead." (On some levels, this has totally worked. My friends and family members are turning more and more to each other for help, and they're less likely to come to me with their problems. I'm much more isolated these days than I used to be... which may not be an actual good thing.)

And yesterday, all of the fears and what-ifs and craziness came crashing down on me all at once when I had a major meltdown over something that, honestly, wasn't even worth shedding a tear about. Because in all of my crazy what-ifs, I'd made a secret deal with myself: If this one thing that I was hoping for (that actually looked like it was pretty likely) came out the way I was hoping it would, I'd have proof that God loved me enough to hold off all the scary what-ifs I keep imagining. I set this private ultimatum on something I was 98% sure would happen, because I knew it would be an easy way for me to prove to myself that all the fears and worries were baseless. All I had to do was get past this one easy hurdle, and then I could rest assured that I'm not dying and my family will be okay, and people won't forget my name by tomorrow.

But that 98% sure thing? Yeah, turns out it wasn't as certain as I thought. It didn't happen, and the whole fragile system of hope I'd built on this flimsy premise crashed all around me. And my poor friend who got caught in the middle of my meltdown had no idea how this really very tiny, almost insignificant, thing (which was actually, ironically, good news ... just not the picture of events I'd determined to be my "you're not dying" signal) set me spinning into such a severe spiral. And the more she tried to comfort me, the more those fragile barricades I'd built for myself exploded, until I was hyperventilating and she was wondering what the heck just happened.

Today is Tuesday, the day I set aside each week to worship in the Temple, to refresh my spirit and gain the strength I need to face all of the fears and worries of another week. But I had reached such an all-time low that I couldn't even make myself go inside. I sat in the parking lot, staring at the Temple through my windshield, wondering if I shouldn't just skip this week. Because I feel closer to the Holy Spirit inside the Temple than anywhere else, and that's where I always get the tough answers to my most difficult prayers. What if I asked, and He told me that yes, I am dying?

But I was already there, so I decided I might as well go inside. I took a deep breath and opened the car door ... and my phone trilled with an email from my friend, who was checking up on me after my meltdown yesterday.

So of course I had another, even bigger, meltdown.

We emailed back and forth for over an hour as I sat in the parking lot, afraid to go inside and face the Lord. And I'm pretty sure I hurt my friend's feelings many times over in the course of my meltdown ... But I couldn't rationally explain myself. Because fears like this aren't rational. And even though I knew I'd regret it later, I only wanted to lash out - to push her away, so that if I die, she won't have to be hurt.

So, in an attempt to salvage my friendship before I completely destroyed it, I stopped answering her emails. And I called my husband to let him know I was going to skip going to the Temple today and meet him for lunch instead.

He told me to go inside, and he'd see me for a late lunch afterward, whenever I was finished conversing with the Lord.

Have I mentioned that my husband is very wise?

I sat in the quiet peace of the Temple, opened a Bible to 2 Timothy and began to read. In chapter one, verse seven, it says, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

As I felt the love of the Savior wrapping around me, I realized something profound.

I don't know if I'm dying. I don't know if I have five minutes left on the earth or five days or five decades. But if I did die today, it would be okay. My children are amazing and well-prepared for just about anything life throws at them. My friends won't forget me. And my husband and I have a bond that will last throughout all eternity, and not just until death do us part. And if I can feel that safe and loved in the Lord's presence, I don't have anything to fear on the other side.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't have any plans to die today. I intend to live fully each day that I'm blessed to remain on this earth. But I don't need to be afraid of the possibility. And if I die today, before I get a chance to go skydiving or to meet my favorite celebrities or finish another book or any of the other things I've been worried that I might not get to before it's too late ... well, it doesn't really matter, does it? Because that's not what life is about anyway. And death isn't really the end.

Numbers Don't Matter. YOU Matter.

I have been so worried and caught up in the numbers game lately. I absolutely cringe every time someone asks me "How is your book doing? How many copies have you sold so far?" (Seriously, guys. Don't ask things like this. I don't ask you how much money you made with your last paycheck.) Every time someone asks this question, I feel like I need to defend my worth. Like I'm only valuable if I'm doing BETTER than everyone else. (By the way, I'm fine. I've sold more copies of my book than some have and less than others. Just like every other author on the planet, throughout the entire history of books.)

This weekend, I hit a severe low, however, as I started letting the numbers game get to me. What if "fine" isn't good enough? What if people stop seeing me as worthwhile because I'm not THE BEST? And how do I even measure that status? I've had overwhelmingly-positive reviews, and I get emails and private messages regularly from readers who say they were touched by my book. Is that more or less important than hitting #1 on a Bestseller List?

And then, Saturday night, I went to the General Women's Broadcast of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. This talk, by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf (2nd counselor in the first presidency of the church) was exactly what I needed to hear:

Post by LDS Videos.

The entire talk is worth watching. (You can find the full talk here.) I especially needed to hear the part (right before the clip shown above) where he said, "God knows of your successes. Though they may seem small to you." - Because I matter to Him. Whether I've sold 1 book or 1 million, that's the only measurement that really matters. 

 And you matter too. 

Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise!

Win a Critique on Your Writing and Support an Amazing Cause!

Today, I'm participating in an auction to raise money for RAINN (Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network) on Kelly Johnson's blog, My Countless Lives. Several authors, agents, and other publishing professionals have donated services like query critiques, phone consultations, and even full manuscript critiques. Plus, there are several autographed books up for auction, for those of you who read more than you write (or for those, like me, who are just obsessed with books)!

I've donated a critique of either a Query plus First Chapter OR a Query plus Full Picture Book manuscript (the winner gets to choose)! Bidding starts at $10 for each auction, so hurry over and place your bids to help a great cause!

It's Not You, It's Me: On Reading and Subjectivity

When you're a writer, the one thing you hear more often than any other is: "This is a subjective business." And I'll admit, sometimes it gets really hard to hear. When the rejections are pouring in, one after another, and you think you'll never find anyone to love the manuscript you've worked so hard to write, it's easier to think "There must be something wrong with me" than "I simply haven't found the right agent/editor for this manuscript." 

That fear and negativity is what caused me to give up far too soon on my first manuscript. After more than two years of fearful, timid querying, I let the rejections bring me down. I had a pile of no's, many of which were very encouraging (the rest were form rejections). But I convinced myself that all of the agents and editors who took the time to write encouraging, personalized rejections were just being nice. Because obviously, if there was so much to like in my manuscript, it would have been snatched up on the first round of queries, right? (Just so you know, agents and editors don't take the time to write encouraging letters of rejection to praise your writing if they don't mean it. Not because they don't want to be nice, but because they simply don't have time to do so with hundreds of queries filling their inboxes every day.)

Of course, we all know that giving up on my first manuscript led to the writing of my soon-to-be-published debut novel, TWELVE STEPS (coming 25 March 2014), so there's a happy ending to my story. But I recently finished reading a book that got me thinking about the subjective nature of reading all over again.

There's a book (no, I won't name titles, so don't ask) that all of my friends and acquaintances are reading and gushing over right now, all over the Internet. And the concept sounded intriguing to me, so even though I personally didn't care for the first title by this author, I picked up this new book and started reading. And it was okay. The idea behind the book was truly fascinating, and I liked most of the characters. There were even a few lines that made me smile all day long after reading them. There was enough to like about this book that, usually, I'd be recommending it to everyone, even though I wasn't 100% in love with it. (There were a couple of characters I didn't care for at all and some plot points that felt a little thin to me, but not enough to draw an "I hate this book!" out of me.) I enjoyed the book. Really. It was well-written and thought-provoking.

But I won't be recommending it to anyone, no matter how well-written it was. And the reason for my reluctance to recommend is entirely subjective and totally personal. Basically, it boils down to the language. This book was so full of profanity that I was seriously uncomfortable reading it. 

Now, before you jump into the comments to yell at me for having a holier-than-thou attitude or something, please let me explain. Yes, I know that profanity is perfectly realistic. I am fully aware that kids hear a lot worse in the hallways at school every single day. And I know that many writers and readers believe that the only way to show the reality is to dive right into it, headfirst. If that's what you feel you have to do, I'm not going to tell you that you can't.

But when I read a book where the f-bomb lands several times in only a few pages, I'm saddened by the fact that this is a book I can't recommend to my kids. Not because I'm trying to censor what they're exposed to (believe me, I've spent enough time at the schools to know they're exposed to as much or worse every day), but because they judge me by the books I recommend. A few months ago, my teenage daughter picked up a book I had been reading, and after a few chapters she put it away again with a sad shake of her head. "I don't know how you can read things like this, Mom. I have to hear it all day long at school. When I read, I like to take a break from language like that." And two days ago, my youngest daughter came to me in tears because she'd just listened to the non-Radio-Disney version of her favorite song for the first time. "Mom, I thought Disney singers weren't supposed to swear." 

And my kids aren't the only young folks who like to take a break from the profanity of the world from time to time, by the way. I've had several of their friends complain to me about it too. Yes, they might be the minority, but these are the people who look to me most often for book recommendations. I can't disregard their trust by recommending books I know will make them uncomfortable.

Which is exactly my point. Reading is totally subjective. One agent may love your story and your characters, but the best friend or the love interest is too much like the boy who crushed her heart in high school, and your story brings up painful memories. Another may adore every single one of your characters and be totally in love with the voice of your story, but when he went backpacking through Europe for a semester in college, the international spies he encountered were nothing like those you've depicted, so the story doesn't feel entirely authentic to him. And that editor you met at a conference may have just signed a deal for a book that's so similar to yours it would cause unnecessary competition between titles on their list. You never know what personal circumstances might make your book one that an agent/editor would enjoy enough to read but not enough to gush over for months and years to come.

When the rejections pile high and you're tempted to get discouraged, it never hurts to take a second look at your manuscript. Maybe there's something you can do to make a character more likable or a situation more believable. Maybe there's still room for improvement. But maybe not. If you are happy with the story as-is, and your critique partners (yes, there should be more than one - and your family members and best friend don't count) all think your story is the best thing since sliced bread, then it's likely you simply haven't found the right agent or editor. Don't give up! You may be closer than you think.

My Sister's Gift to Me: A Lifetime Love of Reading

Me and my 3 sisters

I got a call from my older sister this evening. She's interviewing for a training job, and she asked me to write a letter of recommendation for her. This makes sense, as she's been teaching me all my life. 

One of my earliest memories is sitting on the couch with my sister (Carin), while she taught me how to read.

I was four years old, and I had a favorite book that I asked Carin to read to me over and over again. One afternoon, when she finished reading the book and I immediately asked her to read it again, Carin explained that if I learned to read to myself, I could have my favorite story any time.

She read the story to me one more time, pointing to each word as she read. At the end of each page, she had me repeat the story to her, again pointing to each word as I recited the familiar story. When simple words like “and” and “the” were repeated, she showed me that the word looked the same on the page every time it appeared.

I soon discovered that I could “read” my favorite book all by myself, but Carin didn’t stop there. She wanted me to be able to read all books, not just the one I had memorized. So she gathered a selection of her favorite books to continue my lessons. She opened the books, one-by-one, pointing out the words that I had memorized from my favorite book.

And when I was confident enough to pick out the words I already knew within the pages of any new book I tried, she took it one step further. Carin pointed out that, just as the words were the same, no matter which story I found them in, each letter and group of letters made the same sounds, no matter which word they belonged to. She worked with me to break down the familiar words until I could put them together again to read any book on our library shelf.

When I got frustrated with the process, Carin wouldn’t let me give up on myself. She simply pointed out the progress I’d already made and encouraged me to try again. When I complained that it would be easier and take less time if she just read the stories to me herself, she explained that, even though teaching me how to do it took more time than simply reading the book to me, if I learned how to read for myself, I would never have to wait for her or anyone else to have the time to read with me again.

Carin’s patient tutoring instilled in my heart a love of books that has shaped my entire life. And now (as you know), my first book is going to be published by Swoon Romance next year!